


Got You

by lostlilac



Category: Unspecified Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe- Dark, Don't Like Don't Read, Kidnapping, M/M, Master/Slave, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slave Trade, controlling hamilton, dark hamilton, genius hamilton, it's messed up how much power he has, like seriously, manipulative hamilton, master hamilton, possessive hamilton, powerful!hamilton, read the disclaimer before going any further, slave aaron, vulnerable aaron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:05:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8681623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlilac/pseuds/lostlilac
Summary: '"Perhaps I was right about you," Hamilton teased in a deep voice, causing Aaron to tremble in disgust. "Such a needy little boy underneath that veneer of rich clothes. Don't worry, Burr," Hamilton purred in a sing-song, his grip somehow tightening all the more to emphasize his words. "I'll give you what you want."'-In which, Aaron becomes a slave to Hamilton in the worst possible way.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy- I've twisted this beautiful musical into something horrible. Like, seriously I'm a monster for doing this to Aaron! :D
> 
> ***Disclaimer***
> 
> So, apparently people need this to be cleared up... thought it was kinda plain to see but mmkay. This in no way is linked to black slavery- which I think all of us can acknowledge was a terrible, terrible event- this is a FICTIONAL piece of work with tags to indicate what is and not in it. I thought that would weed out anyone who didn't want to read, but apparently not... If you don't like, don't read. Really it that simple! If anyone comments on my story with negative opinions regarding everything I've highlighted, I'll be sure to ban you from commenting again. This is based on how the people realistically looked like, but some aspects of the musical are still in there, so I'm keeping it under the Miranda tag. I'm writing for my and the reader's enjoyment, and nothing more. 
> 
> Quite frankly, anyone who isn't a fan can go bitch about something else on another story, because I don't have the energy for ignorant/misunderstood people. And even if this was about black slavery- this is a work on fanfiction, meaning it doesn't have to be that I condone any of it- it kind of irritates me that a work like this on a more popular fandom would be widely praised, and something made in the rough period of slavery makes it therefore 'not okay'. It just seems ridiculous to me. But you're entitled to an opinion- I just request you don't put hateful comments on my work. 
> 
> I've took time to think it over and come to this: I'm not going to stop my work just because a few people say I shouldn't. I know there are lots of people who understand the warnings I put on the tags, and the fact so many have commented saying it's good for what it is is more than enough for me to continue working on this with pleasure. Thank you for anyone who's reading this story -even if you don't like it- it helps me to work all the more harder.

The night was long and cold, mist drifting in each breath Aaron dared to draw. There was a certain beauty in it, watching as the world went by in the most precious way. His eyes drifted unerringly across the landscape of the gardens, watching the silvery shadows slinking past without even a glance at Aaron.He supposed he looked rather inconspicuously, what with his dark robes and youthful posture. Even if he did stick out like a sore thumb in terms of age, he had as much intelligence as any of the older men. The only big problem was experience. No one would put a bet on someone who hadn't played the game before, after all. Especially a one as dangerous as politics. 

Aaron let out an irritable sigh, taking a stale paper of his blazer pocket. It highlighted his terms of service, and it was as strict and prim as one would expect. He couldn't even bring himself to read half of it, already too tired to care. They had asked him to sign it before joining officially, and to read through it carefully before signing anything. No one looked at the small print anyway, Aaron reasoned. 

Without preamble, he took out a quill to sign the summary, trusting his hand to be firm enough to write without needing a hard surface. It was hard to adjust to the darkness, but he managed to keep steady on the thinly drafted line. That was, until someone interrupted his movement. 

"Are you really going to sign that?" A deep voice snorted from behind him, its exterior rich in an arrogance Aaron was becoming used to in the snobbish surroundings of his colleagues. 

Aaron didn't even bat an eyelash towards the man, but his quill had noticeably stopped in its pursuits. An irrational frustration bloomed in his chest- for what reason Aaron couldn't quite place- but it loosened Aaron's manners enough for him to snap with brash words. 

"Considering it is a decision I am free to make without another's input, I fail to see the relevance of your query." Aaron quipped curtly in reply, tersely stuffing the damned piece of paper in his pocket before spinning around to meet the no doubt all knowing and richer than God politician. 

What he saw instead made Aaron's eyes widen fractionally. There was a mere boy- perhaps a year or two older than himself- with wide, dark blue eyes that seemed to stare through him in its vigorous studious stare. You'd have to be an idiot not to see the intelligent in his sturdy frame, his eyes filled with a consuming dark hunger Aaron simply couldn't identify. It was enough to make the young man stare without realizing, his curiosity extending to child-like lengths of wonder. 

"Given your obvious astonishment, I expect you know your mistake now," the man drawled in his posh voice, and God, nothing quite matched the intensity in his tone. Already Aaron was dizzy, and he hadn't even said much. "And I expected a man of your stature to acknowledge that signing to something you have not read could have deadly consequences." 

"Th-" Only then did Aaron realize how dry his voice was, and he cleared it with a quick flush of embarrassment. "Is that so?" Aaron managed with a tinge of anger, after seeing curved lips form an amused smile at his expense. But it was no more than the truth: Aaron was making a fool of himself. 

The man did nothing in reply, but the knowing smirk said it all and Aaron felt his ears go hot with annoyance. Before Aaron could open his mouth once more to defend himself, fingers were against his chest. Aaron froze in something he thought would be horror, but instead only an electric jolt came up his spine. With a neat flourish of movement, his fingers lying heavily on one side of the thin fabric of his inner pocket. Aaron held his breath. But in the same moment, a paper was plucked out of his pocket, and something like disappointment drowned out a lingering anticipation. 

"I would know, Mr. Burr," the man said solemnly, waving his now crumpled piece of paper with a quick gesture. There was something wicked glinted in the man's eyes now, his smirk becoming something of a danger as he edged closer without Aaron realizing. "I wrote it." 

Aaron felt like the words should've had some dramatic impact, but if anything, the man invading Aaron's personal space was something that took his breath away moreso. When he first saw the man, Aaron thought his eyes were as dark as the night surrounding him. But with dizzying perception, Aaron realized they were a dark blue. Fiery; domineering. Just like the rest of him. It was something Aaron couldn't help but admire. For once, he met someone that had confidence in themselves for a reason. 

But as he stared blankly into the neat –and no doubt expensive- tailored cut of his shoulders, it suddenly hit Aaron like a sack of bricks. 

He was writing the political articles? It took a special kind of intelligence to get up that high.. Especially for one so young. Surely he had a family member in politics to give him a boost? Or was he just that superior to others? Either way, Aaron felt himself begrudgingly shine with admiration for the man standing next to him. But with it came an element of fear, and bubbling questions that couldn't be ignored. How could one man be so power? 

Surely... It couldn't be him. 

Aaron cleared his throat once more, his hands suddenly cold in his pockets when he spoke up. 

"Excuse me for being so bold, but have you ever heard of Alexander Hamilton?" The man's face remained a mask at his question, but there was something mischievous in his stance now. Almost as if he was playing with Aaron... testing his nerve. Bravely, Aaron carried on with a raspy voice. "Only, he's got a reputation for being the youngest to write significant documents for the party... I just thought..." Aaron trailed off at the man's face. 

He was postively glowing with a glee Aaron didn't want to describe, a playful grin erupting on his handsome features. There was something cat-like about the man next to him now, a predatory terseness in his slender frame at Aaron's choking silence. 

"Oh?" The man drawled, leaning so he was almost nose to nose with Aaron. In the quiet of the night, Aaron's breath could be distinguished- sharp and short as the man drew nearer, those plush lips teasing him mercilessly with words. "And what did you think, Burr?" 

He knew. He had to know what Aaron had guessed. The use of his surname without any honorifics seemed to highlight the fact of his cruel intelligence, the truth of the situation probably smacking the man in the face as soon as Aaron dared to open his mouth. No doubt about it; this man was Hamilton. Or at least, a close buddy of his to act so fiercely at Aaron's open distain. 

"I..." Aaron stuttered, his words sinking in dread within the pit of his stomach. You're a slave-owner. Not only that, but practically the King of the black market. How did you manage to get into such a high position when you're so thick in the mud? You're disgusting. A sham. Monster. But how could Aaron say that to basically a Warlord at this point without bearing the consequences? Hamilton probably had the power to kill him on the spot for such disrespect. "Um..." 

Hamilton's lips quirked at Aaron's blatant fear, his hand tracing the piece of paper in his hand almost longingly, the calloused fingers wearily getting Aaron's attention. 

"My, my. I suppose Congress thought themselves quite clever, grabbing a smart little morsel like you up for the taking," Hamilton said in his all-dominerring voice, still fingering the paper, a little harsher now. He glanced up at Aaron, and the change in Hamilton was too obvious. His eyes had darkened, pupils wide blown- and somehow he seemed taller, looming over Aaron with a doubtless power that made his knees shake. He thought of running, screaming- anything to get away- but he found himself glued to the ground. "But you see darling- they're corrupt to the bone. They don't mind me doing things to people, as long as they get a whore or two to keep for themselves now and then." Hamilton said it as calmly as one would talk about the weather, either ignoring or not caring about the blood that suddenly drained from Aaron's face. Whether Hamilton could read minds or just saw the plain terror on Aaron's- his wrist was roughly encircled by Hamilton's without the man even breaking his rant. 

"Normally it's just a poor girl on the streets- someone who no one would care about, someone who would be easily breakable. But..." Hamilton's teeth glittered in the night then, the sharpened edges behind those blood red lips honed for the kill. "… You'd be surprised at the demand for needy little boys like you." 

With that, Hamilton's lips were on his. At first it didn't quite register for Aaron, and momentarily he just let the buzzing pleasure of shock take him. But then those teeth interferred, biting harshly at his bottom lip- and Aaron shoved away that hard chest with a yell, suddenly too enraged to even think of the consequences as he ripped his hand away. 

"How dare you," Aaron spluttered, eyes wide with adrenaline. "You are a disgusting, vile creature to even think of kissing a man, let allow assault one." Aaron breathed heavily, too angry to even think of fleeing. 

Hamilton cocked his head as if studying something fascinating- ignoring every word Aaron had said. 

"Strange," he mused, brushed his creased suit casually after the struggle. "Normally, the fighters are the most annoying. The little brats who scream and cry with every touch I give them... Soon enough, they always beg for mercy for being so rude as to defy me. But you... it seems I enjoy your defiance." 

Aaron found his throat stuck, incapable of forming any words. What the hell was he supposed to say? He's insane. Aaron thought with numbing realization, although it should've came much earlier. But even so, his legs refused to budge. 

Hamilton smirked, apparently amused by his frozen state, grasping his wrist again like he owned it. Aaron shuddered in revulsion. Perhaps in his twisted mind, Aaron was already his. 

"Like a bird caught in a trap," Hamilton remarked softly, his rough fingers tracing the pulse point of his small wrist with an abrupt gentleness. "So frail... So vulnerable..." Suddenly, the grip tightened like a bear trap, causing Aaron to cry aloud in the ensnaring grip. "But too smart for your own good." 

Now. Aaron tried to wretch himself from that iron grip, eyes finding Hamilton's unerring precision. They were hard now, blown with the excitement of the fight. But unlike before, Hamilton did not let his grip go loose, instead twirling Aaron right into his chest with an effortless tug of his fingers, the heady musk of his chest suddenly possessing Aaron's senses. Despite himself, Aaron let out a whimper of fear. The noise was muffled into the thickness of Hamilton's robe, but not enough for the man not to hear it. He laughed like it was the funniest joke of the night, his canine-like teeth glinting once more. 

"Perhaps I was right about you," Hamilton teased in a deep voice, causing Aaron to tremble in disgust. "Such a needy little boy underneath that veneer of rich clothes. Don't worry, Burr," Hamilton purred in a sing-song, his grip somehow tightening all the more to emphasize his words. "I'll give you what you want." 

With that, there was a blow that knocked the air out of him, his head throbbing into an explosion of black. The last thing he heard was Hamilton, his voice echoing into the thick dark. 

"Got you."

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos, comments and bookmarks if you want more. Didn't have time to edit. Yeeeah... sorry about that :D


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